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But we reached the top floor and the question was forgotten in lieu of her first look at the executive floor. The hardwood floors, marble and glass sculptures; it was my domain. Every piece created my world. My professional world, that is. My private world was something else entirely.
Natasha perked in her seat and I felt the air change between the two women. I bit back a smile when Leila raised her chin an inch, not backing down.
"Hold all my calls, Natasha."
Natasha's porcelain features nearly shattered, but she mumbled a yes and I guided Leila down the corridor that led to my office.
It was time.
Never before had I felt so nervous, so hopeful that a submissive would sign on that dotted line. I wasted no time retrieving the tablet that had the contract waiting. I handed it to her and took my place at the desk. "Feel free to read through it in its entirety. A copy was also emailed to the address we have for you on file."
When I asked her to read through it in its entirety, I didn't expect her to literally read through it word for word, but I watched her eyes skim each line intently. Her eyebrows hitched a few times and I couldn't resist guiding her toward the meat of it.
"I can give you the highlights. As my personal assistant, you will be given a healthy salary along with a clothing and travel allowance. In addition to any administrative needs I may require, you will make yourself available as my submissive."
I'd expected the word to rock her very foundation, but the look on her face was something else entirely.
She was utterly terrified.
Chapter Five
I hedged my bets. There was a chance that the wide eyed horror was really fascination...or she could be moments from screaming from the rooftops that Jacob Whitmore was a sex addict.
I wasn't an optimist, but I also knew that we'd come too far to turn back now.
I kept my tone matter-of-fact, like we were discussing a new client instead of a new kind of relationship where I was her Dominant and she was my submissive. "You are familiar with the term 'submissive'? With BDSM?"
She let out a strangled chuckle that told me she was familiar, though I had a sneaking suspicion that her definition was garnered from a romance novel.
"Yes," she finally answered, cheeks hot with the most delicious embarrassment. "I mean, I do. I mean, I was..." She didn't finish her statement, her eyes falling to the floor like she'd find the letters and syllables to properly tell that story.
My curiosity about her history was overwhelmed by a rash of territorialism. This woman wasn't even mine and I wanted to slay those demons and kiss away every old hurt. Now that I knew that I'd seen a flash of a sub in her, I knew that she was meant to be my own.
I refused to address the gravity of my attraction; how one tryst in a stairwell resulted in an inability to accept anything but her signature. I'd heard of Doms finding the one...the submissive that changed everything. I was taking a huge risk. What I asked of her wasn't exactly conventional. Or legal. But I couldn't wait to show her my world.
"Good," I answered as evenly as I could. It came off crisper than I'd like, but it beat the giddy timbre of excitement that was doing a number on me. "That means your period of adjustment should be brief."
She still hadn't looked me in the eye since I'd revealed my hand. Instead of just staring at the carpet, she swept her toe back and forth, reminding me of a pendulum. She was leaving no stone unturned with this contract. She hit something that made her stop mid-swing.
"I-Is this number correct?" Her eyes flashed to mine, filled with incredulity. "It must be some sort of typo."
"The salary is correct." The look of awe on her face was one that I knew I'd see again once she saw my playroom. I couldn't resist teasing her a little. "And don't worry, you'll earn every cent."
She looked about five moves past worried, her soft features blanched. "I, uh, as far as the interview?"
A Cheshire grin spread across my face. "It's more of a...working interview. If you are prepared, we can begin now."
She practically shredded the armrests on the chair she was sitting in. I could hear her internal conflict. Was this real? I couldn't be serious...but if I was, would she really say yes?
I held her gaze, hoping she wouldn't call my bluff. Hoping that the spark I'd seen wasn't imagined. "You are under no obligation to me yet, Miss Montgomery. If you are uninterested in the position, you can sever your employment with Whitmore and Creighton."
She frowned. Not the best sign. "I couldn't go back to R & D?"
Carl is going to kill me... "We both know that position is an extensive waste of your talent."
I'd meant it as a joke, but she looked ready to hop to her feet and spit in my face.
"You know this isn't fair, right?" she practically growled, each word singeing the air. "That you're giving me no choice?"
